


Musings of a Minstrel

by Kara_Eclipse



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 16:11:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10790064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kara_Eclipse/pseuds/Kara_Eclipse
Summary: Different introspections by Maglor on his family and how things are going or have gone.





	1. A Father's Son

Kindness and gentle words. Those were the things he was known for. It was ridiculous really to see just how narrow minded people were. Even those who had been there when he had sworn the Oath believed it. Oh it was amusing and interesting to be labeled the ‘nice one’ after all everyone trusted him simply because of those warm smiles and kind words.

No one ever truly seemed to realize what being a son of Feanaro meant though. They all looked at his brothers and saw his father lurking somewhere in their actions and behavior. With Maitimo it was in the proud bearing, the way he never submitted to anyone who did not deserve it. It was in Maitimo’s temper and how once he started to act it took a force of nature or someone with a stronger will to stop him.

With Tyelkormo it was in his restless need to keep going no matter what state he was in. The drive to learn absolutely every aspect of his craft that he could and learn it so well that no one could ever say that he was clueless or ignorant. Caranthir was perhaps the most obvious as far as behavior went in that even the smallest slight was remembered and later acted on. No one truly dared to cross them more than once and often people learned not to do so before they even did it the first time.

Curufin people looked at and saw the similarities in appearance. Oh that was true, but Curufin also shared Feanaro’s insatiable curiosity. He felt the drive to always find better ways of doing things to find out how this worked or how that could affect this thing over here. Watching the two of them at work was a lesson in possibilities even as watching Feanaro and Tyelkormo with each other was a lesson in contrasts.

Some wondered if the twins, the Ambarussa, would take after Nerdanel more since so many of her children took more visibly after their father. He always wanted to laugh because surely they saw that the others did take after her, and while Feanaro was more visible the mark she left on them was there all the same. Yet the twins they already had tat curiosity that Tyelkormo displayed and the need to see how thing affected each other that Curufin wore so visibly.

Yet never once did they notice his father peering out from his eyes. They thought themselves clever to see Feanaro in all of his brothers and yet they blinded themselves to his influence lurking in the one they all called the ‘kind one’. If he hadn’t been so frustrated by it perhaps it would have been funny. As it was all he could do was judge them as inept. They didn’t see the irritation over being questioned about something ‘simple’ and they certainly didn’t notice the way he watched judging them so very coolly. No to them he was his mother’s son.

Maybe that is why he had trouble truly loving her in the same uncomplicated way Maitimo did. All of his brothers loved her really, and he did too, but there was always something that hung between them that stopped him from loving her as fully and as simply as he knew he should. It was his fault, but it was still there. Maybe when he understood what it was and why he hated that part of them maybe, just maybe, he could give her the rightful place in his heart again.

Maybe then he could hear himself described as the ‘kind one’ without wanting to either hit the person who said it or laugh until he couldn’t breathe because of how ridiculous and naive he felt they were being. He just hoped that day would come soon after all it was a rather tiring state to be in constantly.


	2. Outside of Mithlond

Maglor sighed looking up moon. ‘How long has it been,’ he wondered ‘since I had last reveled in the silvery light that it exuded? Since it last was a source of warmth and comfort?’ He missed the days when the sight of it warmed him and was welcoming. Of course he doubted that it would ever be so again. Sighing heavily he dragged his weary body off the ground and wandered along the beach. What today might bring he did not know yet he had wanted a few moments to remember times long ago before he continued his seemingly endless trek. Without realizing it he started humming softly his father’s favorite song; his eyes still flickering back up at the moon.

‘How are they doing, my brothers? Surely some of them have been released from the Halls by now, and reunited with mother. She probably scolded them for running off like that without thinking,’ he thought his lips turning up into a fond smile. His mind conjured up the image of an elleth holding a child, and his heart clenched nearly driving him to tears. No, no more tears… he had shed enough. The image of his wife and their curious and playful daughter faded. It was swiftly replaced with the faces of his brothers; all of them were looking at him in a mixture of curiosity and to his tired and worn mind almost disgust. He figured that was probably that he had fallen so low. Once they had been the greatest of the Noldor, and yet if you looked at him now that would likely be the furthest thought from your mind.

As though he realized that he was humming Maglor stopped and shook his head. As one who had always been given to his imagination he knew that these thoughts would likely just cause him pain, and yet there was no true anger or hurt behind them this time. All that existed was a soft longing. He observed his emotions with a detached fascination. Perhaps the most surprising thing was that some part of him wanted to go home. After spending years yearning for death and subsequently denying himself that… finally he didn’t want to die only to go back to everything he left behind. Oh it wouldn’t be the same, but neither was he.

“Curufin would be laughing at me… He always did find it funny when I couldn’t make up my mind on something.” Maglor spoke softly looking back up at the moon. It seemed to shine just a little bit warmer and the sea shimmered and reflected the light from it just a little bit better. Maglor observed that both seemed to be agreeing with him that his brother would be laughing at him. The faint smile brightened, and he nearly laughed as well. Shutting his eyes he just allowed the cool night air to seep into him both calming and to his surprise it seemed to warm him again.

How long he just stood there simply reveling in the rare moment of happiness he couldn’t say. Yet some part of him didn’t care nor did it want to question anything right then. Just being able to be happy was a thing to savor. Last time he had truly been happy had been years ago, and he didn’t want to let the feeling go. Eventually though it slipped from him. After a long moment he sighed and continued his trek south. Soon he would have to cut inland he noted looking at the cliffs in the distance. ‘Of course it may not be as soon as I thought,’ Maglor thought ruefully as a fairly strong wind started tugging at his clothes almost trying to pull him north.

North was what all was left of Mithlond, Cirdan’s city. Nearly laughing again he remembered the look the shipwright had given him the last time they had seen each other. Cirdan looked like he had just been made to swallow a fish whole, and he had been aware enough that he hadn’t lingered there long. How the shipwright was fairing he didn’t know either, but however it was surely he had found happiness in Valinor. He had better have taken care of Elrond on the journey though or else when Maglor next saw him there were definitely going to be words.

That didn’t matter right now though. Right now he would continue his wandering until something happened to change his course.


	3. On Loyalty and being a Feanorian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introspective on the ones who followed the House of Feanor regarding people who call them traitors and cowards. He is a little cruel and biased here just to warn you.

You ask me why. You who laugh at us, who mock us behind your closed doors, you who see us as traitors and villains, even you who look at us with pity. You all would ask me why. Why swear the oath? Why follow Feanor and the rest of his house to their doom? I have one answer. Loyalty. It is as infinitely complicated yet as infinitely simple as that.

Oh it is not loyalty to an object or a fleeting thing. No this is the type of loyalty that when you see someone walking to their doom you are right there. You are right next to them or if not next to than behind them. I hear you laughing. What do people who slaughter and abandon their kin know about loyalty? That is what you are thinking right?

Tell me then have you ever known someone who you would follow anywhere? Through anything even when you know, you just know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you will probably never walk away. That by following them you have just damned yourself to that same doom and death. Have you ever felt that way, and still gone? No? Then what right do you have to judge?

You never bothered to ask and listen. It was always you casting us as the villains to your fairytale story because the worse darkness inspires too much terror and malice for you to tolerate him lurking in the background. Who cares that the shadows grow darker from one day to the next? After all the evil you see is so much easier to hate and blame.

Loyalty though. We were loyal it was just that simple. Anything asked we would do even though we, some of us at least, knew what would come from our actions. Yes, duty played it’s part, but that wasn’t the motive. Duty wasn’t why we kept going even there at the end. That was loyalty. More than loyalty that was love. Every second there you could see the loyalty and love. That was why all who followed were released from their duty. So that maybe, just maybe, some could survive. Some could make a new life and start.

What could a Kinslayer know about that though? We became monsters the moment the blood touched our blades. Most of us anyways. Strange that those who were with Fingon were forgiven and never turned into monsters. Perhaps that is why you mock us. Because you saw that they regretted it and forgave them, but when you found us or heard of our deeds it had been long enough for the wounds and scars to fade a little.

I never regretted it though. Not truly. Sure there were moments I wished we never made the journey. Yet never once did I truly regret following them. Loyalty. I would loyally stand at their sides come what may than to turn back and run away. So go ahead and taunt me for being loyal. Go ahead and say that I was a fool, but know this when it comes down to it I would take two Kinslayers, two of those people you mock and call hypocrites, over a hundred or even a thousand people who you welcome and accept without pause. Why? Simple. They were loyal even against all odds, even knowing that there was a good chance that we would never walk away or come out victorious. That alone is enough after all we got this far thanks to their loyalty and spirit.


End file.
